


Get Lost

by AntiMaterielGirl



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Rough Sex, Smoking, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntiMaterielGirl/pseuds/AntiMaterielGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A female Lone Wanderer tells Charon to get lost - then changes her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Lost

She crushes her cigarette butt under the heel of her boot. _Fuck ‘im_ , she thinks. _I don’t need ‘im_.

She sent him back to Underworld – he got too lippy. They may have been fucking, but she told him that outside the suite, she did what and who she wanted. She never did anybody, but still – she wanted to keep her options open. A guy flirted with her in a bar, she responded, and he got pissy in front of everyone. _Our secret will be impossible to keep if he can’t keep his jealous fuckin’ mouth shut._

The first time was angry; furious even. They’d cleaned out a nest of raiders and both of them were still keyed up, energized. She met his eyes, and saw the same thing that he saw in hers – bloodlust. He slammed her up against the wall, kissing her roughly. To up the ante, she fought with his pants, reached in and seized his hard length, which made him growl menacingly.

She slipped away from him deftly, but his reflexes easily bested hers. He snatched the back of her jacket and tossed her like a giant rag doll onto a nearby filthy mattress and fought her pants off of one slender leg.

He yanked her legs apart and penetrated her rudely. She shouted, fought back against him, moaned loudly. She liked to fight; all her partners wound up with scratches and bruises. Most were terrified of her, during or afterward, but the normally stolid ghoul bodyguard just thrust harder into her, even as her nails dug into his forearms.

They rutted like animals.

When he finished with her, he grunted with satisfaction, stuffed himself back into his pants and tossed a pack of cigarettes at her.

After that, little had to be said. The look – the lascivious glance that passed between them – that was all either of them needed. They fucked over desks, in bathroom stalls, on the beds in abandoned houses. After a particularly tough battle with a deathclaw, he’d forced himself inside her just feet away from its gore-spattered, steaming corpse.

Apparently, he thought he owned her; could tell her what to do.

She hadn’t fucked anyone but him, for months. Maybe the exclusivity – maybe that’s why he got angry, punched that guy. _Man, he really rearranged his face – that dude's own mother won’t recognize him after that wallop_. He got it bad because he didn’t realize – or he didn’t want to believe – that they could be, well, together. That a human would even want to be within arm’s length of a ghoul, much less screw one, was beyond him. If it’d even crossed his mind, then he’d have anticipated the blow. As things stood now, he’ll be drinking the rest of his meals through a straw.

She sits on a rock, thinking for a bit. Her insides ache for him. They burn with need. She’s so goddamn horny now, almost perpetually, that she’s taken to shooting Med-X near her crotch, just to ease the itch. Touching herself doesn’t help – once you’ve had something like that, something that you need so bad…you can’t be satisfied with anything else. She grunts.  _Ghoul sex, hard, rough, violent – accept no substitutes._

 _Maybe_ , she thinks, _maybe I made a mistake, sending him back._ She’d give anything right now to feel his massive paw wrap around her neck, to snarl at him, kick and fight. She can imagine her teeth rattling as he slaps her hard across the face, and she moans, her insides contracting reflexively at the memory.

“Get lost. Go back to Underworld. Fuck off,” she’d said.

She lights another cigarette as she pictures his face. Half-rotten, falling apart, a face only a mother could love – but that wasn’t what mattered to her. _His dick still works and he knows how to use it,_ she thinks, squirming uncomfortably.

 _Fuck it_. She runs her hands through her short, fiery red hair. _I need to get fucked, or I ain’t never gonna get my head back in the game_. She picks up her Chinese assault rifle and hoofs it to Underworld, bitching the whole way. When she stalks in, even Greta scurries away quickly. _Like rats leaving a sinking ship_ , she thinks.

She vaults the stairs by twos, and strides confidently to the double doors of the Ninth Circle. She roughly shoves them open, and they bang against the wall with a loud _CRACK_. Everyone turns, including him – she sees the look in his eyes, the violence, the lust. It mirrors her own. “YOU!” she screams at him, pointing. “What the FUCK was your problem?”

The rest of the patrons abandon their drinks and run to the other door, barstools tottering, some clattering to the floor. _Chickenshits,_ she thinks.  _Well, at least being the Devil of the Wastes has its benefits._ When everyone leaves, the doors swing shut, he sneers at her. “Got tired of fuckin’ scavvers? Not enough man for ya?” He tosses back his scotch.

“I ain’t fucked nobody since you, and you know it!” she growls.

“Really? Everyone turned down your offer? Ain’t that a shame – people turning down a perfectly good slut.” He chuckles. "What a world we live in."

“You come over here and say that to my face, you stinkin’ rotten shuffler.”

His eyes narrow at the epithet as he rises from his stool. He strides toward her with slow, heavy, measured steps. “WHORE!” He stabs a finger at her, poking her chest, pushing her back into the wall. "You think you can just fuck me, then hop on the next dick that walks by?" He leans in closer. "I don't share."

Pressed up close together, they can feel the heat radiating between them. Impulsively, she shoves his chest, and he bats her away effortlessly. She catches herself on the bar and turns around just in time to see him bearing down on her. He lifts her by the front of her shirt, sweeping glasses, bottles, napkins and other assorted detritus from the bar top, slamming her down and pressing her squirming body into the lovingly polished hardwood.

Grunting with effort, she fights against him as he fumbles with her pants. She lands a kick square in his chest, and receives a cuff on the ear in return. Dizzied, she scrabbles with him, scratches him like a wild animal, but she’s no match for his superior size and strength.

She freezes when she feels him brush against the inside of her thigh. She can feel her pants dangling from one leg; he’d tossed her other boot across the room, it'd slammed against the wall with a solid _thump_.

Pinned to the bar-top, she can feel him pressed against her moist opening. Her eyes bore into his as she whimpers with need. Her cunt is aching, burning – and he probably wants her as much as she wants him.

He plunges into her with no warning, and she cries out in both pain and pleasure.

She pressed her eyes closed, grits her teeth, and roaring, grips the edges of the bar, scrabbling for purchase, bracing herself against the onslaught of his brutal thrusts.

“You fuckin’ – “ she starts, interrupted by a vicious slap across the face.

"Shaddap!" he snarls. She gasps at the sting and tightens inside, _the pain is so delicious_ …

She opens her mouth. “MotherFU-“ WHACK! She’s rewarded with another slap, so hard it rattles her teeth in her head. She moans loudly as he grunts and growls, growing ever rougher as he approaches climax, aroused both by her yips of pain and the impassioned moans that follow.

She wails, her insides pulsing rhythmically, fingernails digging into his forearms. He thrusts into her savagely, releasing himself into her with a feral howl. 

When he finishes with her, he backs off, shoving her rudely. She collapses back onto the bar breathing heavily, muscles aching. Dimly, she can feel her throbbing insides, his wetness oozing out of her.

“Don’t,” she says, between gasps.

He pauses. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t stop.”

He grins wickedly. “As you command.”


End file.
